Heavy is the Head
by MegElemental
Summary: ...Upon which lies the Crown. Morgana struggles to be herself in Camelot, and life just keeps getting worse. Slight M/M, but otherwise no pairings.


**A/N: A little one-shot inspired by Disney's **_**Mulan**_**. I think that Morgana is such a good character to write in depth about. This is AU, but not drastically so. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither **_**Mulan**_**, or Merlin. Which is a pity, because I love them both.**

Her hair lay long and thick on the bed, damp from her bath and taking forever to dry. Morgana sighed, and tried to get comfortable, but with wet hair it was impossible. If she turned to either side, her hair would dry crooked, which would stay as a permanent kink, despite all of Gwen's best techniques.

She had to stay lying on her back, facing straight up, staring at the canopy over her four-poster bed. A spider slowly climbed down a think skein of web, and she watched for a while until at last she slipped into an uncomfortable sleep.

0o0

Morgana watched as the Knights twirled and spun on the training field, engaged in a macabre dance. She watched jealously; Uther had not minded her learning when she was younger, as it was good for future self defence and no one cared what she did, as long as she stayed in the castle, but no she was a Lady, and could no longer fight. She watched silently, keeping her face smooth and blank, not wanting everyone to see that she so desperately wanted to join the Knights. She couldn't help but let out a sigh, however, which Gwen caught.

'What's the matter, my lady?' she asked, worried. It didn't take much to worry Gwen' Morgana wondered when she ever looked after herself as she was so busy looking after others. She would make a good mother. Morgana thought absently.

'Oh, nothing Gwen,' she said, smiling. 'I didn't sleep very well last night. I'm just a bit tired.' Gwen gave her a piercing look, and then turned back to the Knights.

'You miss it, don't you,' Gwen said, after a few minutes silence. Morgana decided not to lie.

'It gave purpose to my life, other than being pretty and making Uther look good,' she said, her voice slightly bitter. Uther tried to show his kindness by parading her around, and she had to act like the grateful orphan. It sickened her.

_So why should you listen to Uther?_ said a devious little voice in her head. _He shouldn't be able to have control over what you do._

That night she waited until Gwen had left before she slid out of bed and got to her knees. She slid her hands underneath her four-poster and drew out a sword, wrapped in silk. She unwrapped it tenderly and brandished it around, remembering her lessons and executing almost perfect technique.

_I'm better than most of Arthur's knights, _she thought triumphantly, as she whirled and spun, blocking here, parrying there, as she fought an invisible foe. In her mind, it had Uther's face.

As she performed a particularly vicious swing, her hair flew into her eyes. She stumbled, caught her foot on the leg of her stool and fell with a thud, the sword clattering to the ground and skittering across the floor.

Morgana swore in a rather unladylike way and hoisted herself up, but collapsed almost at once. Her ankle hurt a lot and tears welled in her eyes. She lay still, and heard running footsteps. Morgana groaned. Just what she needed, a witness of her folly.

The door burst open and Merlin, of all people, rushed in.

'Are you all right, my lady?' he said anxiously, as he rushed over to help her up. Morgana craned her neck to view the open door, but no one else entered- Merlin was alone. She couldn't help but feel relieved at this.

'I'm fine, Merlin, honestly,' she said, but she accepted his help all the same. He supported her weight as she walked to her bed, seemingly untroubled by the burden. His arms were wiry and deceptively strong, despite their skinny appearance.

Once she was on the bed Merlin's eyes flickered to the sword lying on the floor, but he said nothing, for which she was also thankful.

'What hurts, my lady?' he asked, his eyes worried.

'My ankle,' Morgana said, feeling foolish, and she reached for it. Merlin gently batted her hand away and probed it tenderly with his cool fingertips. When she gasped at the pain, his eyebrows creased together.

'I think you've sprained it,' he said. 'I should get Gaius…'

'No!' Morgana said forcefully, as Merlin made for the door. He turned back, surprised. 'I don't want to disturb him,' Morgana said quickly, covering over her embarrassment. She wanted no one to know of the incident. 'You are often with him; surely you must have some idea of what to do?'

'I would rather get Gaius…' Merlin muttered, but she turned pleading eyes on him and her came back over and sat carefully on the bed, next to her injured ankle. In that moment, Morgana was suddenly very aware that she was in her bed, in her nightgown, alone with Merlin. Every nerve seemed on hyper-alert as he tended her ankle.

'I don't really know what to do,' he admitted, as he bound it tightly. 'I think this will do, but you'll have to go and see Gaius in the morning.' Morgana nodded- she would get out of bed when Gwen arrived and pretend to trip. That would stave off any awkward questions.

'Thanks,' she said quietly, as he finished and got up slowly, patting her ankle as he did so. As he did, Morgana gasped again.

'Oh, sorry,' he said. 'I forgot…'

But it hadn't hurt. As he had touched her ankle, the pain had left, as quickly as it had arrived. Morgana watched quietly as he picked up the sword, wrapped it in the discarded silk and handed it over to her. He said nothing about it, and simply left, with a parting, 'Good night, my lady.'

She lay on her bed, clutching the sword, for a while before she finally dropped off to sleep. That nigyht, no nightmare tore her awake.

0o0

'Gwen?'

'Yes, my lady?'

'How often do you wash your hair?'

'About three times a week, because it takes a long time to fetch the water from the well and I'm usually quite tired after a day's work…'

'How long does it take to dry?'

'Not long; I wash it in the mornings and it is usually dry by the time I reach your chambers with your breakfast, if a bit unruly. Why do you ask?'

'I just… wondered.'

0o0

Morgana stormed off to her room, tears threatening to fall, her hands trembling with anger. Uther had gone too far this time, too far…

Despite feeling like an angry child, Morgana threw herself onto her bed and stayed still, not trusting herself to move. Uther was not her father- how dare he tell her what to do? She wouldn't mind so much if he was a good man, but as it was, he was the furthest thing from it.

Everything had angered her that day. First Uther, his head almost too big for his crown, telling her she could no longer leave the castle without guards. He had refused to change his minds as she ranted and raged at him, his face staying stony and unrelenting.

Then Arthur, who had told her 'it is probably for the best,' in that supercilious way of his. He followed his father like a lost sheep, she thought uncharitably, and she had shouted at him, too, before running off. Even Gwen had incurred her wrath; Morgana grew tired of her sunny disposition, her way of seeing the good in everyone…

'_It's only because he cares about you, milady. He doesn't want you to get hurt…'_

Unless he does the hurting, she thought bitterly. She hated the unfairness of the world, _how come Gwen can see the good in everyone, when I can only see the bad?_

She lay in her chambers for the rest of the day, her breathing constricted in anger, her face flushed red. It was only as night fell and the air cooled that she, too, began to calm.

She became more reasonable; realized that it was soon her time of the month and that may be why everything seemed so black.

She rotated onto her back and gazed thoughtfully at the canopy of her four-poster, thinking about Uther's ruling. Was it really the end of the world?

_Yes, _said a rebellious voice, _he is taking away your freedom, rule by rule, under the pretence of keeping you safe._

The door creaked- she turned, expecting it to be Gwen, but was surprised to see Merlin edging carefully in, watching her carefully as though she were a wild animal. He clutched a bottle in his hand, obviously a peace offering from Gaius, who had also managed to upset her that day.

'Don't worry Merlin, I won't bite,' she smiled at him and sat up. He smiled back too, though it was a nervous smile.

'Err, Gaius sent me to give you this. He… he says…' Merlin seemed to have a blocked throat and he cleared it loudly, pulling at his neckerchief. 'He says that he knows that your monthly bleeding's soon and this should help with the mood swings and pain.' Merlin said all this very fast and blushed deeply, up to the roots of his hair.

'Thank you, Merlin,' Morgana said gratefully. He brought it over and set it by her bed.

'I hope you feel better tomorrow,' he said, and Morgana was surprised to note the real care in his voice.

'It's just,' she said, feeling the pent-up emotion build once more, 'it's just I don't feel I can be free. I can't be myself here. There are too many rules, too many boundaries.'

She looked into his deep, dark blue eyes, darker than any she had ever seen (blue eyes were often light, watery, pale, or grew pale as the child grew older, but his were dark, deep, with hidden depths that looked ageless and everlasting) and she saw that, strangely, he knew exactly what she meant.

'Goodnight, Morgana,' he said gently, and only after he left did she realize he had used her first name. The thought of that little break in the rules, the small infraction that would be banned if ever Uther heard about it, made her smile, and her heart and her head grew lighter.

She downed the concoction in one, and grimaced at the revolting aftertaste. It looked like Gaius hadn't quite forgiven her after all.

0o0

'Milady, can you please stop fidgeting?' Gwen cried exasperatedly. Morgana looked at her in the mirror.

'How much longer is this going to take?' she cried, as she pulled at a strand of hair Gwen had not yet done up.

'It takes time, milady, you know that. You have very thick hair.'

'I should just cut it all off,' Morgana muttered mutinously.

'No, my lady!' Gwen cried out in horror. 'It's beautiful! It's a sign of your wealth and status! You'd never see a servant with such beautiful long hair. It'd get in the way all the time.' Gwen fingered it longingly, and put a self-conscious hand up to her own short, fly-away curls.

_I'd rather be a servant than be kept in this gilded cage, _Morgana thought angrily. _It may be beautiful, decorated with jewels and wrought from gold, but it is still a cage, and I am trapped inside._

0o0

Morgana watched from her window, incensed, as Uther sentenced yet another man to be executed. His crime? Magic. It was always magic.

She had put up a fuss, and Uther had ignored her. She had tried to free the man; he had been a faithful guard of the palace for many years, and she had known him well, but she had been caught and locked in her chambers. She had screamed herself hoarse, bloodied her knuckles on the wooden door, but Uther had been deaf to her cries.

Alain had a wife and three children. The youngest, a girl of three who had been sick with an incurable disease that had even Gaius stumped, had been found mysteriously cured overnight. When interrogated, Alain had confessed to using magic to cure his daughter, and Uther had sentenced him to death.

She pressed her hands up against the window, seeing with horror that his soon-to-be widow stood nearby, her face streaked with tears as she watched her husband ascend to his death. She had no children at her skirts- they had been saved the sight of their father dying. Morgana sighed in relief, but could not tear her eyes away from Alain as he placed his head on the block. She closed her eyes as the axe fell- she had promised herself she would watch, that she owed Alain that, but she found she could not.

The rest of the day she spent crying, alone in her chambers. The horrible sight stayed with her and as it replayed in her mind she saw others walking to their deaths, those she loved. Gwen, Gaius, Merlin, even Arthur made the journey in front of her eyes as she relived the scene, and all the while she stood by, held back by chains of silk and gold, by her title.

'_You are a Lady of Camelot, and my ward,' _boomed Uther's voice again and again in her ear. _'You must live by my rules and show yourself to be a proper lady.'_

The weight of her richness, her privileged position, grew larger and larger until it seemed to be pushing her down to the ground. Her hair, the masses of silky, thick strands pulled her down into madness until it became as clear to her as the many diamonds she owned what she should do.

Reason was reflected and broken by many facets, and bounced around the walls as she reached for the sword under her bed, slid off the silk and walked slowly to her stool. She sat; holding the sword in her lap she gazed at her reflection and saw…

The beautiful Lady Morgana, Uther's ward, Uther's 'pride', Uther's pet. The beautiful Lady Morgana who was cold beneath her good looks, who had a heart of ice and had watched too many people die without moving a muscle…

The sight sickened her, and she wanted to be another. In her moment of clarity, her moment of madness, the answer was obvious- it was her hair that cut her off, that made her different, that made her _royal._

In one swift stroke, she cut it off – clean - at the shoulder, and it hung around her face and the rest fell to the floor. The new lightness she felt liberated her- the world grew brighter as she looked once more into the mirror and saw…

Morgana, the witch, the sorcerer, the human being who felt and cared and could be free…

The cut-off locks curled about the legs of the stool and she smiled triumphantly at her reflection. The door clicked open behind her, and she held her breath in apprehension.

'I brought you some food, my lady. I thought you would be hungry.' Merlin walked in, not noticing her sitting at her dressing table, shorn and free. He kept his eyes fixed on the plate as he put it gently down on the small table, not wanting to spill any of the over laden food. Then he looked up.

Morgana watched as his face went through a series of emotions. First shock, then confusion, then worry, then… something unknown. He smiled at her suddenly, brilliantly, and her heart lifted higher than ever.

'It suits you Morgana.'

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